The Ties of Blood
by SinsOfDragons
Summary: With the death of Sirius Black, the wizarding world is left wondering who will be the new head of house Black. A letter written fifteen years ago reveals an unlikely candidate. Will the ties of Blood be enough to bring the crumbling house back to its once noble state or will the last of the direct line be the one to destroy it completely? I do not own HP. Mature themes within.
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note.

I would like to say thank you to Canimal, Kittenshift17 and Freya Ishtar for inspiring me to write a Thorfinn Rowle story. It is their delicious adaptations of the death-eaters in JKRowlings world that inspired me to bring back and rewrite this story and share it with you all. I do not own the Harry Potter world but if I did, some that died would live, and some that lived would die, because for stories to have a deeper meaning there has to be a little heartbreak.

Friday 14th November 1981.

To my dearest daughter,

At the time of writing, I am sat in a cell of Azkaban Prison, having been sentenced without trial for murders which I did not commit. That, however, does not mean I am not guilty, my recklessness helped with the murder of your godparents James and Lily Potter. Your god-brother Harry has been taken care of by Albus Dumbledore and I wish I could have done something other than this for you. I had no one I could trust not to abuse you or turn you into something I would never wish for.

Your mother chose to leave when you were born, having realized that I had no intention of being the "Lord and Patriarch of the Most ancient and deluded house of Black". She got pregnant with you in the hopes of riches and an easy life and whilst I regret that you were not born in marriage, she gave me the greatest gift I have ever received, you. Do not think too harshly of her kitten, The Fawley family has had a rough century after their fall from grace, and Corrine just wanted something secure. She did find it, married into the Abbott family but no kids as far as I know. Ravenclaws always had a thing for your old man, Kitten, used to make James howl with laughter.

To keep you safe I wanted to hide you in the muggle world, but I will not submit you to a childhood of not knowing magic. Lily often complained that she felt like she had been born into the wrong world even though she loved her family. Instead, I chose to trust my Mother Walburga against my better judgment that she would hide you. I do not know where it is that she has sent you, and when the magic has been performed I and the world will forget that you existed. Trust that I do this for your own protection, as the enemies, I have made in my lifetime will be yours as well. She promised me you would be safe and my Mother might be many things, but she is maniacal when it comes to her family and you, Kitten, are her only grandchild.

This letter will be sent to you in the event of my death if I have not been cleared of all charges and released from this hell. I only hope it does not cause you as much pain to read it as it does for me to write it. You, my darling girl, have been the greatest gift that this old dog could ever receive, and I can only thank you for the all too brief moments that I had with you. I love you as much in death as I do in life, and I hope that you know more joy in your life than I did in mine. I might be named after the brightest star in the night's sky, but you… You are the sun, so bright you burned the darkness in me away.

The enclosed vial will reveal your true identity and release the spells that have kept your memories and true magical core hidden from the world. There are also enclosed memories of my own of you and from Moony, your werewolf surrogate mother. He will bring me back from the dead to kick my ass for that comment, but when you meet him, imagine him freaking out over a baby with hiccups and you will see what I mean. He and James were the best friends I could ever have hoped for and I only hope you have found similar friends. I leave everything I am entitled to, and everything I own to you, with the exception of Grimmauld Place, that I leave to Harry James Potter, my Godson in the hopes that he brings light into the place of darkness.

I wish that you never set a toe in that rotten house, so full of dark memories for me that I would not wish them to taint you. My time to write this is coming to a close, so please understand this, you were wanted, you were not given away out of spite. I wanted you safe and loved and chose the only place I could trust you would be cherished and with a grandmother who knew the truth. Do not be too hard on Diana, she did only as I asked and I placed a spell on her so that she could not reveal that she knew the truth until I die.

Know that I have always loved you, Lyra Black.

Your Father

Sirius Orion Black.

The goblin Razok, senior account broker for Gringotts bank waited whilst she finished reading before passing her a vial to drink. With one arched eyebrow, she eyed the contents and the letter once more. "Is this some kind of sick joke?" Her perfectly manicured fingers were rigid as though she ached to curl them into fists and lash out at the audacity of whomever's idea this was. "Did Malfoy put you up to this, because if so pretending that I am his cousin is beyond disgusting, I used to date him. "She could feel herself getting angrier the more she thought about it.

"There is no mistake, Miss Black, I checked your magical signature before even inviting you into this room. Your guardians, the Parkinson's are being informed as we speak and the magic that has hidden you safely all these years will remove the spells when you drink that vial." Razok seemed unruffled as he watched her from behind his stone desk, clearly used to seeing witches freak out in the bank.

"Guardians?! They are my parents! They have baby pictures of me, I have lived my entire life with them, some letter from a dead felon isn't going to change that, and I am not drinking what could be poison!" Pansy pushed herself to her feet and began pacing around the office, her magic crackling in the air with her temper in a way that hadn't happened since she was a small child learning control.

"They were paid to take care of you, and agreed to have their memories altered of parenting you in order to secure that money. Your father was bankrupt and your mother barren. The funds that your family has been living off, rather ostentatiously are from the Black family vaults. Placed there after the gave their blood to complete the magic that has kept you safe for the last fifteen years." He paused and reached for a file to the left side of his desk, opening and checking the contents before he continued. "Your headmaster is being informed as we speak and I suggest you drink before he arrives. Given his track record when it comes to your family he will likely contest the legitimacy of this document. He will also want you and the Parkinson's remanded in Azkaban for fraud."

Pansy's startled gaze met the goblins fully for the first time since she entered his office at Gringotts and she could not help the small shudder that rushed down her spine at the thought of stepping one toe inside Azkaban. She looked around helplessly trying to think of a way to escape the situation, not wanting to see her Mother in chains. Her eyes settled on the vial and its swirling contents and with a small sigh she reached for the bottle. "Will it hurt?" Her hands were now shaking as she opened the contents and her nostrils were filled with the pungent scent.

Razok shook his head and indicated at the wall to remind her that she did not have much time if this was her decision. Pansy wasn't sure that she really wanted to drink this, but she didn't want to not drink it and ruin her family's lives because she was too nervous to take the chance that the document was correct. She closed her eyes and took three steadying breaths before drinking all the contents of the vial.

The liquid felt like fire rushing down her throat and when the contents reached her stomach as she screamed as though her entire body was on fire. All she could feel was fire and pain, and she was blind to her surroundings. It felt like her body was being burned, broken and reformed and Pansy made a silent vow to never ever use blood magic herself if this was the consequence. It felt like every second would stretch on for eternity as memory after memory filled her mind. Memories of her grandmother Walburga handing her over to the Parkinson's, memories of her father and the rush of love that came with them almost threatened to break her.

She didn't know how long had passed when she finally opened her eyes and saw that she was no longer on the floor but instead seated on the leather armchair that she knew Razok had been seated in before hand. Her hands were shaking, as she stood and walked to the small mirror on the other side of the office. Her legs were shaking and unsteady on her heels as she looked at her reflection. In the mirror the girl looked familiar but different, her hair that had been jet black and pin straight was now loose chocolate curls that better framed her elf-like face.

Her green eyes were now an almost storm gray and her mouth now sported a fuller cupids bow. It was as though someone had ironed out her flaws into something far more graceful and Pansy was uncertain how to react. "Is this really me?" She leaned more forward, almost touching the glass until she found the tiny scars that she knew were hers. The one just under her left eye from where she stole her father's broom to go and play quidditch with Draco and fell from thirty feet into some brambles. She also found the scar on her right shoulder from getting between a fighting Gregory Goyle and Blaise Zambini and Theo Nott had to heal the open gash, although rather poorly leaving her with a scar.

"If you are done admiring yourself Lady Black there are some documents that you need to sign." Razok was clearly impatient as he indicated the paperwork before him and she reluctantly retook her seat. She signed where indicated for the papers concerning inheritance, family properties and duties as the head of house that she would be required to fill. It was only when she got to the last stipulation that she froze "I'm engaged?!" Her voice, she noted was no longer shrill but huskier as though it had dropped a couple of octaves.

"Yes, Lady Black, you are engaged to a Mister "he checked his notes as though matters that did not directly involve gold bored him "Mr. Thorfinn Rowle and sealed in blood from what records that Walburga your grandmother kept indicated. When the spells hiding you with blood magic were broken he would have been reminded of his commitments. As you can see on your own left hand it is rather permanent." Pansy raised her hand and gasped as wrapped around her finger was a ring of black and red knot-work with the initials TR forming the shape of a jewel in the middle.

Before Pansy could begin screaming once more at Razok the door was magically blown open and several wands were pointed in her direction.


	2. Chapter 2

"Pansy will you stop pacing, you're wearing a hole in the rug!" Daphne practically growled as she watched her classmate move back and forth in front of her. She had turned up unannounced and only the fact that her father had been home had saved Daphne the scolding from her mother about her friend's poor manners. She had hardly recognized her friend when she opened the door and was about to scream for her father when she did something only Pansy would, insult her shoes and ask for help at the same time. Said shoes were still on her feet and she couldn't quite see why Pansy called them two loaves of bread with straps. Although Daphne would admit she was biased as they had been a gift from Theo.

"No, I will not stop pacing, because my name is now Lyra, I mean urgh, of all the constellations and stars he called me Lyra. I mean I get it he was music crazy but seeing as I have no talent for it, it seems a rather ill fitting name, not to mention I have grown rather attached to being called Pansy. Admittedly another horrid name but it could have been worse, at least my name isn't Mildred or some ilk." She huffed at sat on the blond girl's bed and looked around the room in annoyance. The only tell to her underlying fear and worry was the way she bit her lower lip.

"Daphne what am I meant to do. Now that the damned spell is broken, I am a Black, orphaned, my real mother is the mother to the Abbott twin brats, disgusting little blighters. You remember how they behaved at the summer solstice festival last summer? They practically burned down the ring of rowan trees that has served as the sacred ground for the last three hundred years. "

"Pans you are rambling and making no sense. So just breathe, you had just gotten to the part about the door bursting open and several wands were pointed at you." Daphne shifted on the lounge seat in her room, a few golden girls falling from where she had used her wand to secure them in a knot. Her room was decorated in creams and golds and she usually found her room to be quite tranquil and calm, but with each work Pansy spoke she found herself feeling less and less so.

"I am making sense, that Corrine woman, you know the one Blaise always calls a milf and he and Draco have that bet on which one of them can lure her away from her marriage to Cassian Abbott." Pansy made a face as though that might just be the most disgusting thought she'd ever had. "Urgh, Morgana save me I did not need that mental image. Anyways so the door opens and there she stands with tears in her eyes and her husband and old Dumbledork and a few aurors. They go on and on about how they would like me to come and live with them now that I have been freed from the Parkinson family.

"Freed?! As though for the last fifteen years I have been held against my will whilst they spoilt me rotten. And old Dumbledore started waffling about the greater good and how I should consider coming to him if I need anything. Not bloody likely, I know that old man's game and I refuse to be one of his hapless pawns. Side with him and I'll have the dark lord on my doorstep ready to avada me. Not to mention I am the cousin of Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman gives me the creeps just thinking about her. What's to stop her coming and trying to claim me as her ward, apart from the whole convicted felon thing. She'll probably send Narcissa for me and I don't want that blonde harridan breathing down my neck. You heard her screeching at me in the second year of Hogwarts to get off the broom it's unladylike."

Pansy pulled a face as she looked around the pale room and grumbled to herself. "Daphne I am engaged in blood to the biggest ass I have ever had the displeasure of meeting and have to choose a guardian to look after the affairs of house Black until I am either married or of age. I mean they won't even let me consider having Mum and Dad as Walburga wrote down that they only agreed to have me for financial gain. They said it makes them unreliable guardians. I honestly just keep closing my eyes and hoping to wake up and this will all be just some strange nightmare that we can laugh about."

Her voice quaked at the end as though she was struggling to keep her emotions in check, and here in the private of her room Daphne wrapped her arms around her closest friend. She would never do so in public, it would reveal a weakness neither of them would want to be exploited. But here in the safety of these four walls, she let Pansy shudder and cry on her shoulder. "We'll figure it out, it is what we always have done. I am assuming that the guardian has to be of the Black bloodline so we need to look at all the options. Then I'll go with you to Gringotts and your account manager can get it all put into a legally binding document that makes them guardian of you but leaves your inheritance untouched until you are of age.

"As for being engaged to Thorfinn Rowle, I wouldn't worry about him wanting to settle down too much. I know you heard the stories like I did. He and Charlie Weasley had some competition in the seventh year as to who could bed the most witches before graduation. If the rumors are even half true there was barely a female in that year that didn't jump one of them. So I doubt in the last what, six years he'll have settled down any." She pushed the curls back from Pansy's cheeks and made the other girl look at her. "If anyone knows what it is like to be engaged to an arse it is me. My Dad is so keen to make sure he doesn't get on the wrong side of the dark lord he promised my hand in marriage to Rastaban Lestrange. He's old, a felon and by all accounts insane. Not exactly someone to swoon over."

Pansy laughed in spite of herself. "Oh please, Daph by all accounts that man is gorgeous. So what if he hates muggles and blood traitors, at least you know where you stand. He wants a wife to give him children, Thorfinn didn't even know he was engaged until this morning. I guess, however, I can take a vindictive pleasure in knowing these little brands…" She held up her left hand and indicated to her tattooed ring finger. "These mean he can no longer get it up for anyone but me. So no doubt I'll have to deal with him sooner rather than later. I wouldn't even put it past him to demand to marry me the day after I turn seventeen. Think we can get Snape to give us the day off school on November 15th so I can be forcibly wed and defiled?"

"Defiled?" Daphne made it a question, politely raising her eyebrows and wanting to pry but too well mannered to really push the issue. "So you never…?" Pansy looked at her and sighed. "No, I haven't. Look it's just I have had a few disastrous relationships, not least of them being Blaise, and whilst they all wanted to, I don't know, I wanted it to mean something. I am not a romantic you know that, Daph. I just, I wanted the first time to be more than some fumble in the boy's dormitories or groping in the library."

"Pansy, it's not a bad thing to want it to be meaningful, sex is a big deal. But if you go into this thinking you will be defiled, you're going to hate every second of it. I am glad I lost mine to Theo, and well, I wish my father had consulted me before handing me off to Rastaban because I would have chosen Theo. Look let's leave the impending doom of marriage alone for a while now. We need to get you a guardian and from what I remember from being made to obsessively study who belongs to what bloodline there's not all that much choice."

Pansy sat up and composed herself, wiping away any trace of tears that were still on her cheeks and released a deep breath. "Well there's Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Andromeda, so no way am I going to live with Draco considering who is rumored to be his house guest and Bellatrix is, of course, a wanted felon so she's out. Andromeda is struck off the family tree for being a blood traitor so I can't choose her. So then it's either the extendeds that I wouldn't trust or Dorea Potter or Lucretia Prewett. Both of them born Blacks and widowed and mostly keep to themselves."

"Dorea Potter as in Harry Potter?" Daphne asked looking confused. "No, the wrong branch of Potters, you're thinking Euphemia Black, she married Fleamont Potter who is Harry's grandfather. Dorea married Charlus Potter was that eccentric who ran the department of mysteries. They had a son, whom if I am correct works in the foreign embassy in the United States for the ministry. I think she might live out there with him, although I am not sure on that. Anyway, Charlus and Fleamont might share the same name but they are from completely different branches of the family.

"Lucretia Prewett, however, is widowed and never had any children although she is the aunt to Molly Weasley, you know, mother of the brood of annoying red heads. Personally, I'd like to avoid choosing her in case she tries to pass me off to her niece and I become an honorary Weasley. Could you imagine? I'd rather drink skellgro and get giant like proportions that deal with that lot. I'd be a blood traitor by association. " Pansy had begun pacing again as she talked, but she was much calmer, her movements back to being practiced and poised as she thought aloud.

"So what you are saying is, you would prefer Dorea but you don't think she's in the country?" Daphne began to change her shoes and called for her house-elf Pippa to alert her father that she had Pansy would need to head to Gringotts soon. He was working from home today but she knew he would be more than willing to accommodate Pansy now that she was the heir to the house of Black.

"Well yes, from all accounts she is a formidable woman and I think if anyone can keep the vultures and opportunists away it is that woman. Did you know she once told Dumbledore that the light side of magic is an illusion clung to by the weak minded and that one day gets him and those he loved killed? Got away with it too, rumor has it that she still hates him and his beard and blames him for the handicapping of future generations because he can't get over Grindlewald." When Daphne looked confused Pansy practically growled.

"Morgana preserve us! How do you not know that he and Grindlewald were lovers before he defeated him and sent him to prison? It's like you don't listen to any gossip. How are you meant to know what everyone else is hiding if you don't always pay attention? So yeah Dumbledore banned the teaching of Dark Arts when he became headmaster and Dorea Black started a protest that was gaining momentum in the wizengamot before Dumbledore put a stop to it."

"Pansy why would she care? She would have been out of school for years when he removed that from the school curriculum." Daphne reached for the wand in her hair and shook loose her curls before stowing her wand in her purse. "Daph sometimes you make me think there might be some truth to the dumb blond stereotype. Why do you think the Dark Arts used to be called Black magic? Because it was blood magic originally created by the Black family. It is why that family is listed first among the sacred twenty-eight. You had to have Black blood to be able to do those spells and Morgana herself was of that bloodline. The more those arts are practiced the more powerful the Black family became. Malfoys might be the richest family in Britain but the most powerful will always be the Blacks. They traded sanity for power centuries ago."

With that, she walked out of Daphne's room leaving the young blonde witch speechless and wondering if Pansy was pulling her leg.


	3. Chapter 3

"What do you mean you refuse to tell me, She's my bloody fiance!"

"Mr Rowle, you will learn to control that temper that temper of yours, or I will escort you from the grounds after washing your mouth out with soap. You may have finished your time at this school, but I will not have you behaving like an overgrown ape within my office. Now sit back down, Mr Rowle and remember the manners I know Eileen, your grandmother personally drilled into that thick skull of yours."

Thorfinn glared at the older witch, wincing at the icy gaze of his former transfiguration professor. She had always been a formidable foe, and she had been the only woman he had ever been afraid of. McGonagall had always been above favouring those in her own house over those from other houses, She was a strict teacher but a fair one and he like many other Slytherins had a begrudging respect for the woman.

Minerva McGonagall held his gaze until he seated himself back in the hardbacked chair across the desk from her. He had barged in here unannounced whilst she was reading Paint the Wind by Cathy Cash Spellman and she was not happy. It was only in the summer months that she could indulge in her guilty pleasure of muggle literature, historical romance was a particular favourite. She was honestly considering just throwing him out on his backside and getting back to reading about Fancy and Chance's disastrous marriage, she was very much of the opinion that Fancy should have chosen Hart.

Thorfinn took a deep breath, calming himself before he spoke to the witch before him. He deepened his tone, lowering his voice to almost a baritone and let the Irish accent his father had tried to beat from him roll from his tongue. It was a brogue that had admittedly helped charm many a witch and he had many times managed to make both Professor Vector and McGonagall blush when he turned on the charm. "Professor you must understand why I am so frustrated with this situation. Only days ago I was free and single and my life was mine to do with as I pleased. Now I am trapped in a marriage to a girl that I have never met and no one will tell me where I might find her. Professor Snape is, I am told 'on vacation' and cannot be reached. The ministry is too busy trying to fawn over the future lord of house Black to be of any damned use and Professor Dumbledore offered me a lemon drop." He said the last as though it was an insult of the worst kind, one that had left a bitter taste on his tongue.

"I was hoping as the deputy headmistress of this school you would oblige me in gaining some kind of knowledge as to where I might find my intended. Or at least in the direction of her guardian so that I might be able to meet the girl. You were married once Professor, I know the circumstances are different but I would like to know why I have been bound so deeply to one little witch." His hand ruffled his long dirty blond hair back from his face, and he glowered at the tattooed ring around his finger.

Minerva smiled, this was the young man that she remembered teaching. Brilliant and utterly charming with a devious sense of humour, He possessed a magical talent that most wizards would envy. He had been a joy to teach, innovative and dedicated he had excelled in her classes and only his proclivity for bedding students had marred her liking for the boy. He was so alike her dear marauders that she found it rather ironic that he was bound to one of their daughters.

"I could tell you nothing at all Mr Rowle, and allow her guardians to approach you when they deem the girl to be ready. You could leave this office as clueless as when you walked in and amuse myself in your feeble attempts to find the girl. But Lyra Black will be back at this school in just under six weeks and I imagine she will be rather annoyed that Albus Dumbledore wants to have her sorted to confirm that her current house is where she truly belongs. He said the girl's magical talent was stunted when her identity was hidden and that parts of who she truly is would affect the house to which she belongs. I have my doubts but I imagine Albus would rather she be a Gryffindor like her father was."

She watched him as she spoke, noticing the way that he rubbed his left arm and felt a leaden weight settle in the pit of her stomach. Anger filled her, he was too young and yet he had been branded by that vile cretin she remembered from her years as a student at Hogwarts. She could not contain herself when she uttered "I had such high hopes for you, but it seems Tom got his claws into you as well. I had thought that the past had taught you better than this. You will have to live on your knees in service to a creature that will have you carving up your soul for his amusement. Can you live with that?"

Thorfinn glowered at the professor, feeling like he was fifteen again and had been caught slipping out of Gryffindor girls common rooms. But he was not a child anymore, he had not been one for a long time and he refused to be spoken to like one. "My choice, funny professor I do not recall having one. Dumbledore doesn't protect anyone, we are all pawns at his every whim and the Dark Lord is the same. He had my niece, she's eight years old her mother is a damned fool and now the girl is under my care. My brother is still working for the ministry in Russia and cannot come home. So my choice was to bend the knee or watch as the likes of Macnair and Nott tore her apart after raping her. I took the fucking mark, and I would do it again and again and again so long as she was safe.

"Now stop changing the subject and tell me where I can find my intended so I can keep her safe too. Lyra Black is damned because she is my intended and the sooner I find her the sooner her guardians can make sure that she is kept safe. You remember my enemies right, Professor, you still teach one the bastards siblings, old Dumbledore even made sure he escaped Azkaban for his crimes."

"Mr. Rowle, surely you aren't suggesting that Charlie Weasley would ever_?"

"Would ever what? Harm an innocent and use them as a pawn for his own means? Really? You still believe that after what he did to Eleanor Greengrass? Bubbly and bright she was probably the most sort after girl in our year and by the time he was through with her, her mind was broken and she took her own life. He is to blame for her death and this school kept him out of Azkaban. Hyperion made damned sure he regretted coming back from Romania for the world cup and the Triwizard Tournament. The dark lord promised him real revenge for what happened to that girl and if the rumours are true, Hyperion took that deal.

"You want to lecture me for my allegiances, show me an alternative whose hands aren't bathed in blood. The Dark Lord might be a murderer but at least he doesn't hide who he is behind a fable called the greater good. You know I'm telling the truth, and Dumbledore craves power so much his own sister was killed for it." He was deadly calm, there was no palpable rage in his eyes and Minerva found herself intimidated by Rowle for the very first time. His fiery temper was usually a short lived thing, but this icy rage of his was a different beast and one she did not want to entangle with.

Her voice was gentler this time, and she sat forward against her desk, her hands neatly folded against the cherry wood. "If you remember Mr. Rowle, I did not speak in favour of Mr. Weasley, I expelled the boy, even when his family begged me not to. That Dumbledore got the boy a job in Romania was not my doing and I regret every day what happened to that girl. I hope you can see now why I do not wish to see another young girl put in harm's way. If you want the information you seek, I will be taking a wizard's oath from you."

She walked around the desk now, withdrawing her wand from within her robes as she did so and stood before the blond. She placed it against Thorfinn's right forearm and glowered when he lifted his eyebrows in question. "I know most oaths are bound to the left arm but being as you've been branded with blood magic I'll not have my wand tainted by it. Now do you swear to protect Lyra Black and cause her no harm for as long as you both live?"

Thorfinn sighed and withdrew his own wand, binding his own magic into the oath and never taking his eyes from the formidable witch. "I swear to protect Lyra Black, my intended for as long as we both shall live. Should I die before she is safe, I would ask that you protect her in my stead." His eyes were steady on hers and she quickly agreed although she was surprised that he would ask her such a thing. She took the seat next to him and reached for her desk, rifling through parchment until she found the one she was looking for.

"This is how you can contact Lyra Black, she wrote to inform the school that she has chosen Dorea Black as her guardian until she is of age. Dorea is a good choice, she was out of the country for the last war and she has no love for Dumbledore, she will keep the girl from harm. It also shows that even though her life has been turned upside down she is smart enough to plan ahead. She is neither reckless nor foolhardy and I daresay Mr. Rowle she will not easily be charmed by you. Her father was a favourite of mine, and she is one of my brightest students. You have your work cut out for you."

Thorfinn smirked at her last remarks. "You know me, Professor. Never could turn down a challenge, half the pleasure is in the seduction." He laughed as she scowled at him, before his face froze in an expression of shock. "Pansy Parkinson? I think this is a mistake professor, her name is Lyra."

"Yes, Mr. Rowle Pansy Parkinson, she was hidden with the Parkinson's by her Grandmother Walburga and until she broke that spell she was under the impression that they were her real parents. I daresay she will be so distracted by learning who she really is she may not have much time for you at all." He snorted and got to his feet, pocketing the parchment even as he pulled his cloak around his shoulders. "Then what better distraction professor, than a suitor to sweep her away from her many woes." His laughter followed him as he left her office and he would swear he heard her cursing him as the door closed.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a week since Thorfinn had made that vow to Minerva McGonagall. A week had never seemed to last so long. Dorea Black Nee Potter had put him through the ringer. Clearly she had quickly become rather fond of her new ward and was in no hurry to lose her to something so insignificant as a husband. Not only had she refused to allow him to meet Lyra before tonight she had threatened to take her to live in America with her son should he ever harm the girl. Thorfinn was getting slowly more annoyed at old women thinking that he would harm her, he didn't even know her.

Dorea's looks were deceiving, she was tall, slender and had an air around her that would make fools underestimate her, but Thorfinn was no fool. He knew within seconds that this woman was not to be trifled with. She had started off being rather sweet but had quickly shown that this old viper still had fangs and plenty of venom for her victims. She stated clearly that Lyra would be in her care and that with the political climate in Britain right now she had suggested that Lyra move to the Black family estate in Ireland. Just enough distance from certain individuals that she would not be easily accessible. She trusted neither the Dark Lord nor Dumbledore and was adamant that Lyra not die a pawn for someone else's cause.

Yet one request she made for his help with had been both peculiar and vexing once Dorea had explained the situation. Lyra's mother had been kicking up a fuss trying to gain custody of Lyra after signing away all rights to the girl when she was a baby. Apparently having had two sons to her husband had made her miss her daughter and now, when Lyra was one of the wealthiest witches in Britain she wanted her daughter back. She had been demanding to go to court and fight for her rights, had almost succeeded but Lyra had contacted Hyperion Greengrass as her lawyer who quickly had the case thrown out. Dorea had been smothering the story, paying off the profit so that Corrine Abbott's pleas were heard by no ears.

Thorfinn naturally offered his and his contacts assistance and knew even without asking that the Dark Lord would keep the Abbotts away from the Black heiress. The Dark Lord was almost as curious as he was about the girl, clearly hoping that she may prove as faithful to his cause as her cousin Bellatrix had. It was with this agreement to run interference that Thorfinn found himself walking across the dance floor and lacing his fingers through the petite brunettes. He gently tugged her back against his chest, her scent of honeysuckle and vanilla filled his senses even as he moved her away from Corrine's deepening scowl.

Pansy had known he was here, she had been able to feel him and his gaze of her all night. Even from across the chamber hall it felt like a sharp tug that was drawing her closer and closer. It was maddening and Pansy had found herself clinging to her best friend Tracy Davis all night to keep her from doing something stupid. Dorea, whom she was quickly growing to love, had insisted that this night was necessary and so had thrown an elaborate ball to celebrate the reopening of the Black Family estate. She had invited every pureblood family and those of influence as a way to quickly introduce Pansy and for her to see who she would need to avoid.

Pansy was more than annoyed that the invite meant that not only was the legion of red haired Weasley's in attendance, but so was her so called mother. Not Posy Parkinson, who had raised her and adored her, she had been greeted with open arms and whispered affections. No, the woman who claimed to be her mother was Corinne Abbott and she was here with her two sons and her husband Cassian. Cassian, Pansy would admit had been rather charming to meet, and did not force any conversation from her. She only wished that Corrine could be even half as restrained. No she had been stalking her all night, following her from room to room, person to person trying to get her attention.

Tracy had been running interference, quickly pushing her to meet this lord, or another classmate to keep Corrine at bay, but clearly the woman's manners had faded and she could not take the message that Pansy was not interested. Tracy had only just been dragged off to dance by Blaise, when she had caught sight of Corrine's approach. She had been about to panic when warm fingers had laced with hers and she was pulled back against bare flesh. The dress she had worn was backless and for the first time she realised just why Dorea had been smirking at the outfit that she had chosen. It was an old tradition amongst certain families that men who were of marrying age but had not yet been wed attend the celebration bare-chested and free from artificial adornments. They could be armed only with their wands that must be on show. She didn't know whether to curse the dress of silently applaud Tracy for suggesting it to her for the night.

It had taken everything in her not to moan when she felt that annoying pull start to sing within her and she knew without looking that she was in the arms of Thorfinn Rowle. He walked her into the dance floor and Pansy was having a hard time keeping a steady breath as her magic felt as though it was weaving with his, testing its limit even as he whispered her name "Lyra" against her hair. He spun her in his arms, until she was face to face with his chest and met with a tribal tattoo that covered half of his torso. He raised the fingers of her left hand to his lips, kissing the tips before placing them over his tattoo. She cleared her throat and met his gaze, even as she felt as though a thousand butterflies had taken flight within her. His blue eyes held her captive even as she felt him begin to dance with her on the dance floor.

He had long dark blond hair that when she looked closer she could see had some braids in places and framed his face in a way that highlighted those cheekbones. He had beard, something Pansy had never found attractive and yet on him she found herself wondering if it was as soft as it looked. She could see, from the corner of her eye, Millicent, Tracy and Daphne watching and whispering to each other, clearly debating on whether they needed to intervene. She didn't know how they both looked as he danced her around the floor, only that she felt as though she had been spell-bound by his gaze and the feel of his palm resting at the small of her back was causing chaos to her nerves and hormones.

She didn't know how long had passed before she could finally gain some control. "My name is Pansy, not Lyra, no one calls me that." Her hand she noticed was tracing the pattern of his tattoo managing to match his steps even as she continued tracing the patterns. His lips curved into a smirk as he raised his left hand and showed her his branded tattoo "Your magic says different darling, I'm tied to Lyra not Pansy and the pull to you is so strong it is taking everything I have not to take you into a secluded hallway and ravish you senseless."

The music changed, gone was the slow almost lamenting music and in its place were sultry notes that encouraged closer contact and quicker steps. The hand that had been on her waist slid up, pulling her into a ballroom hold and began to lead her. His legs brushed against hers through the thin silk of her skirt, the quick staccato movements of them created a friction between them that was both a pleasure and a torment. Pansy knew there should be some part of her screaming to run away from this man as fast as she could. But there was no voice, only the sense that she was in way over her head with him and yet if she had to drown she would rather drown right here with him than try to swim for safety.

In his arms Pansy felt the rest of the world fall away, until the only thing that she knew was him, the feel of his skin beneath her hands and the presence that was both intimidating and intoxicating. Not even the sight of the Dark-mark on his arm, visible only to those who knew to look, took away from his appeal. It was as though all those emotions that past boyfriends had been unable to invoke in her, had re-awoken with a vengeance and had their sights fixed on him. "I know the brand says Lyra but honestly no one calls me that and I have spent my life being Pansy Parkinson, anything else just feels wrong."

Thorfinn shook his head at her, enthralled by the witch in his arms in a way he didn't know was possible. He was twenty-six years old and yet here he was reacting like a teenage boy seeing a pretty girl for the first time. Dolohov had warned him that blood bonds create powerful connections but he had not been prepared for the animalistic lust that had kicked into him the moment her skin touched his. Even as they danced he found himself caressing her skin where he could, spinning her so that her scent hung heavier in the air. She was an addiction created just for him and his voice was rougher when he spoke.

"Pansy was an illusion, a spell to keep you safe surely, but even the prettiest of lies are still a lie. Who you are, at your very core is Lyra Black, it's why if you were to marry into another house you would be Lyra Black of that house. Our names, like our blood hold power and to forsake them is to forsake a part of ourselves." He lead them from the dance floor and out into the night air, the chill providing him with clarity even as it bit at his flesh. "I never met Pansy, I never knew her, but you need to start accepting your real identity and not the fake one. So I will never call you Pansy, you are Lyra Black, heiress to the House of Black and already I find myself both bound to you and drawn to you in ways I didn't know possible. If you were truly Pansy Parkinson this magic would not work, it wouldn't be drawing us to one another."

Pansy looked up at him, leaning against the trellis wall as he pressed himself around her, blocking her from view from everyone from them. She bit her lip, a bad habit Posy Parkinson had never broken her out of. "You don't get it, for as long as I can remember I have been Pansy Parkinson, and the idea of being someone else, I don't know who that is. I have a small handful of memories of Lyra Black and then memories from my father who I will never met and a part of me wishes this is just a bad dream. That I will wake up and be told off for leaving dishes in the kitchen with dried on ice cream from 3am pantry raids.

"I don't know if who I am is really who I am or some spell that was cast on me and you have no idea how frightening that is. I second guess everyone around me now, I don't know who to trust or if I should even trust at all and every time I try and relax there's Corrinne with a pair of baby booties trying to get my attention and I just…"

Thorfinn swept her back into his arms and kissed her, cutting her off mid-ramble and taking that lip she was gnawing on captive for himself. His fingers gripped her hips even as hers found purchase in his hair, twisting a braid around those pretty little fingers of hers. The world seemed to stop spinning and his magic was rushing through him, merging with hers and rejoicing as though he had been starving for her. In a way he supposed that he had, no girl had ever come close to fulfilling him, no matter what he did, he was always left wondering is that it, if there was something was missing.

He pressed her against the trellis of flowers growing up the wall and let himself get drunk on the feel of her. He moaned her name, Lyra, his accent making the 'R' roll off his tongue and he heard her whimper before demanding his lips return again with a twist of her fingers in his hair. He was trailing kisses along her neck when a voice cleared behind them cleared their throat. "Thorfinn do be a dear, and unhand my ward." Dorea Black did not look pleased as she crossed her arms and levelled him with a glare. "She is needed within, some family members have come to meet our young mistress."


End file.
